


In the Shadow of the Summer

by Sipsthytea



Series: The Witcher and the Bard [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bisexual Disaster Jaskier | Dandelion, Bisexual Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Butterfly Society Au, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Whump, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Feelings, I love this ship, Implied Sexual Content, Insecure Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Has a Past, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Jaskier | Dandelion is a Mess, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Roach is a cat, Sad Ending, She knows everything and is fed up with their bull, Shes the best cat tho, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, This is sad as shit, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, but he’s trying, but it had to be done, but like same, butterfly Jaskier, he loves jaskier, i cried so now we shall cry together, im so sorry, like i cried while writing this, love her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23420185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sipsthytea/pseuds/Sipsthytea
Summary: Jaskier’s eyes were a summer day, they were the subtle ocean breeze on burning skin or the gentle shadow of a tree as the sun began to set; or a kiss in the shadow of the summer, just as it came to a close, but long-lasting to where it made you shiver and want more.It was something that made no sense, something that was so familiar it became foreign. And I wanted more.I stood, leaving my sketchbook in my seat, legs carrying me over to him, he peered up at me. His eyes were curious and full of warmth.He reached for me, hands pulling gently at my shirt, I leaned down, allowing him to pull me closer until I could feel his breath fan against my lips. His eyes darted to my lips, then back up to my eyes.It was a dangerous lure that pulled me close to him, something that was so addicting and so tempting. I closed the gap between us, our lips pressing together lightly. He sighed into the kiss, hands coming up to lightly entangle themselves in my hair. I pulled him up, hands trailing down his sides and resting on his hips, I needed him closer, always closer.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: The Witcher and the Bard [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671085
Comments: 15
Kudos: 44





	In the Shadow of the Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, I’d like to explain something first
> 
> 1) this was inspired by a photo I saw on Pinterest, it was a different ship but it is where I got the AU idea from.
> 
> 2) This was kind of hard for me to write and even harder for me to post, I CRIED while writing and revising this.
> 
> 3) it is the longest things I have written, so, please be kind 
> 
> Thank you, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> P.S: I recommend listening to either Cigarettes and Strawberries by Troye Sivan or Fallon by Harry Styles while reading.

“Oi!” Someone shouted from behind me, “Wait! Mate, you’ve dropped this.” 

A figure ran to me, in his hands he held my art portfolio, hands clasped around the overflowing folder. He stopped in front of me, a small smile playing on his lips as he pressed it into my hands, “Here, it seemed important,” he shrugged. 

I looked at him, face flat, “Thanks,” my voice was blunt and cold. No need to begin useless conversations. 

“Of course,” he smiled, he stood there, before he looked back at me, “Can I look inside?”

I scoffed and turned away, “No.” 

He stood behind me, mouth gaping, feigned hurt on his face, “What? Why not? You wouldn’t have that if it wasn’t for me.”

I rolled my eyes and continued to walk away, annoyance thrumming through me. 

He raced in front of me, cutting me off, “C’mon, mate, let me see,” he reached for my folder, with a quick thump of my elbow I pushed him away. 

“No,” I grunted, turning to look at him once more, “You returned what’s mine, I’m thankful, but I don’t owe you anything.”

“You most certainly do! C’mon! Just one look?” He persisted, trailing behind me, eyes peering up at me, “It’ll be quick I promise.”

I glared at him, eyes narrowing on his, with a grunt I shoved it into his chest, “Fine.”

He smiled brightly, taking it from me before thumbing it open, eyes quickly scanning my artwork, careful to keep them all located within the folder. His eyes looked up at me, amazement swimming in them, “This is wonderful, you’re very talented.”

I simply grunted in acknowledgment; I knew that. Half of the campus did. 

He continued to look through, eyes scanning the various plants, sketches, and landscapes. My hand twitched at my side as he turned to the portraits. I had half a mind to snatch it back, but I heard his sharp intake of breath. With gentle fingers, he felt my portraits, letting the textures of paint, oils, and pencil run beneath his fingertips, careful not to smear them. 

He stopped walking, feet coming to an abrupt halt as he paused over my portrait of Yennefer. 

His eyes traced her face, widening in fascination, “How - how do you capture the life in their eyes?” He questioned; voice filled with both curiosity but warmth. 

“I,” his question caught me by surprise, no one ever asked me that, they always asked if they could be drawn, “I just do.”

He made a confused sound and turned his eyes to me, “Well, how?”

I eyed him, “I don’t know, you just do, it’s in the eyes, but it’s also the expression,” I ghosted my finger over Yen’s face, “You capture them when they aren’t expecting it. Like, when someone just calls your name and you look over your shoulder. It’s in the ability to make something look candid when it’s not.”

As I met his gaze it struck me how handsome he was. Soft features, sharp eyebrows, the slightest hint of a stubble, but then, there were his eyes. Blue, not quite like the sea, but not quite like the sky. Not quite a sapphire blue, and with the faintest loom of green. I’d have to mix more than one color in order to get this right, maybe the oils? No, they wouldn’t be the right choice, too harsh. Pastels? Possibly, but they may never get to the right texture of his hair. Watercolor? A strong possibility, soft, but maybe too watery for his skin tone. 

I gazed at him, eyes taking in every aspect of him, from the blue of his eyes to the chocolate brown of his hair. He didn’t falter under my gaze, instead, he seemed to relish in it. His eyes shined with an expression I had never seen before, a dance of sadness and youth, confidence and cluelessness. 

“Do you do this with everyone you meet?” He asked, voice distracting me from creating a mental sketch of him. 

“No,” I answered, voice curt, I took a step back to examine him. He was of average height, lean and poised. His clothing was modest, but regal. His aura is kind but stubborn, interesting. 

“Well then,” he spoke, “Why me?”

I ignored his question, quietly measuring him, accurately transferring his proportions onto a canvas. 

“Well?” 

“I’ve never met anyone with eyes like yours, or an aura like yours,” I answered, not meeting his eyes, but still studying his face. 

His face flushed slightly, eyes widening, a small smile pulling at his lips, “You’ve never met someone like me before?”

“No, should I have?”

He shakes his head quickly, a soft chuckle arising from him, “No, no, it’s just surprising.”

He looks at me like he knows something I do not. As if his chuckle holds secrets, I am not yet capable of learning. He smiles at me once more, but there’s a subtle sadness in his smile, hidden behind the coy in his eyes. 

He extends his hand, “Jaskier, my friends call my Jaskier.”

I stare at his hand for a moment before taking in my own, “Geralt Rivia.”

******

The first time I drew him he was asleep. Hand resting just above his head, fingers splayed slightly, his other hand gently laid on his chest, fingers twitching ever so often. His eyebrows were relaxed and soft, face lax and peaceful, the soft rise and fall of his chest shifting his posture ever so often, causing the arm on his chest to slide just a bit. His legs stretched over my couch, dangling off the end, body pressed evenly against the cushions. The dark fabric contrasted beautifully with the pale look of his skin. 

Roach sat beside me; head tilted as if she was also curious about the human on the couch. I stared at her and she gave me a knowing look, deep green eyes peering up at me, soft brown fur gently rubbing against my leg. 

“I know,” I grumbled as I moved the pencil across the page, gently outlining his figure. I let eyes drift to Jaskier ever so often, letting out annoyed huffs as his hand continued to slide down his stomach. 

My fingers itched to fix it, but I didn’t, I might wake him. 

Instead, I focused on his face. Outlining the soft contours of his face, the subtle part in his lips, the barely-there creases at the corners of his eyes. Shading the hair on his forehead, or the shadows of his nose and arms. 

I allowed my eyes to take in his beauty, trailing my eyes down his body. His hands twitched sharply, and his face contorted softly before returning, for a moment, I thought he could feel my staring and my hands paused. 

However, he went lax once more, my shoulders drained of tension and I released a breath I wasn’t aware I was holding in. 

I slumped once more and let my gaze wander downwards, catching the stare of Roach, “Yes?”

She let out a soft mewl, judgmental and annoyed as if saying, ‘I know you know, so why not just tell him.’

I let out a small chuckle, voice barely above a whisper, “What he does not know won’t hurt him,” I said, turning to find my blender, wanting to blend the light with the dark of his hair. 

She just stared up at me, eyes unimpressed and bored, another small meow, ‘Really?’

“Yes,” I muttered, face heating, I’d known Jaskier for about 5 months and in that short time, he’d become a regular sight at my house. Even Roach had gotten used to him, the cat took to him rather quickly. Rubbing her body along his legs when he entered the apartment, small meows of approval when Jaskier bought her favorite cat treats or a new toy. I started to worry that she began to like him more than me. 

However, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t taken to him either. He constantly accompanied me on my way home from class. He often had his guitar in hand or his lute. We began to see each other so often that he often left his instrument here for days at a time, only coming to get it when he required it for a class. 

I hadn’t realized he woke until I heard his voice, “When you’re done, can I see?” He questioned, voice raspy and unused. 

I looked at him, eyes wide and, not that I would ever admit to him, spooked, “I - sure.”

He hadn’t opened his eyes, hands still resting above his head and on his stomach, posture still relaxed and sleepy, face calm and unbothered. 

I dropped my eyes back to my sketchbook, it was almost a perfect mirror copy, but something was missing. 

“Jaskier,” I whispered. 

He hummed, eyebrows twitching upwards, “Hm?”

“Open your eyes,” He did so. The soft blue with looming green opened, revealing a curious gaze, muddled with sleep. I swallowed, throat tightening. 

I let my hands drift towards his face, eraser tip gently wiping away his shut lids and replacing them with the curious pools of blue. No, not quite blue, but not quite greet, not quite grey. They weren’t a color, I realized. No, Jaskier’s eyes were emotions, his eyes were beautiful and breathtaking. They were curious and ancient, they were youthful and aged, they were kind and sad, they were scared and safe. Jaskier’s eyes were a summer day, they were the subtle ocean breeze on burning skin or the gentle shadow of a tree as the sun began to set; or a kiss in the shadow of the summer, just as it came to a close, but long-lasting to where it made you shiver and want more. 

It was something that made no sense, something that was so familiar it became foreign. And I wanted more. 

I stood, leaving my sketchbook in my seat, legs carrying me over to him, he peered up at me. His eyes were curious and full of warmth. 

He reached for me, hands pulling gently at my shirt, I leaned down, allowing him to pull me closer until I could feel his breath fan against my lips. His eyes darted to my lips, then back up to my eyes. 

It was a dangerous lure that pulled me close to him, something that was so addicting and so tempting. I closed the gap between us, our lips pressing together lightly. He sighed into the kiss, hands coming up to lightly entangle themselves in my hair. I pulled him up, hands trailing down his sides and resting on his hips, I needed him closer, always closer.

I’ve never been one for words, I spoke through my actions and art. Right now, I hoped he could hear all I was whispering to him. I hoped he could tell how much I wanted him, how much I needed him. I hope he could hear me calling his name and telling him that I wanted more. I wanted more than whatever game we were playing, I wanted to draw him every day. I wanted to hear him strum mindless tunes on his guitar and run my ear off with anything he found interesting. 

No, I needed that. I needed his intrusion and hard-headedness; I need his kindness and wonder. I needed Jaskier, I might die without him. 

“Geralt,” he whispered, pulling away to stare into my eyes once more, deep pools swam with an uncertainty that hurt, it stung, “Please,” he begged, “Kiss me like that again.” 

A chuckle fell from my lips only to my stifled when I saw the seriousness on his face, soft features contorting into one of pain and hidden sadness, “Like what, Jaskier?”

“Like I won’t fly away,” he whispered, “Like you’re certain I’ll stay. Kiss me like you want me to stay.” 

I heard the smallest waver in his tone, but I decided to bring it up at another time, instead opting to pull him close once more, hand pressing to the small of his back, “Always,” I promised, “Always, Jaskier.”

****

“You love him?” Yennefer questioned one day.

She and I were walking back from our monthly brunch when she sprung the question. The question was so random, I almost jumped, “I care for him very deeply, yes.”

She eyed me knowingly, raising a sharp eyebrow in my direction, “You know exactly what I mean, do you love him?

I slow, my feet almost coming to a halt, “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. 

I really don’t, I think I do. I know that if he were to leave me today that I’d be heartbroken, that I’d probably die. Does that count as love? 

She hums and quickly turns to look at me, “Don’t.” 

I gawk at her, “What do you mean ‘don’t’ “? 

When Jaskier and Yennefer met, of course, the tension was there, but it had been resolved rather quickly. The pair found common ground when it came to teasing me endlessly. They hadn’t become best friends, but I assumed that the two of them had grown rather close. Every other Friday was their ‘day out’, their Yen and Jas day, they called it. 

She looked at me with a sort of sadness that made my heart pound, “I mean don’t fall in love with him, Geralt, and don’t tell him you love him.” 

I jerked back, her words burned, “Why not?”

“He hasn’t told you,” She said, voice tinting with guilt, “He hasn’t told you…. what he is?” 

“What would there be to tell?” I questioned, my body tensing and frustration slowly pumping through my body. 

“Geralt,” she exclaimed, hands coming to grip at my shoulders, blunt fingernails digging into my shirt, “He’s a part of their society.”

I paled, my stomach plummeting to my feet., “A part of what society.”

She looked tired, eyes straining and filling with tears, “Geralt,” her voice shook, “He’s a part of the Butterfly Society,” she hissed, her voice dropping lower. 

My eyes widened and I turned away from her, “You’re lying,” I seethed. 

“Geralt,” she begged, hand gently tugging me to face her once more, “I wish I were.”

I stared at her, disbelief pulsing through me, he couldn’t be. This was a misunderstanding; I’d go home, and he’d be there. He’d be there stroking Roach as she preened against him, a soft track playing in the background, his journal opens in his lap, pen scribbling down lyrics and melodies. I’d go home and he’d greet me with a soft kiss and tell me about his classes, I’d clear up this misunderstanding. He’d be there. He had to be. 

I needed him to be. 

I hadn’t realized I was running until my chest began to burn, my ears ringing with stories of my mother. 

She’d tell me about the Butterfly Society, about their beauty and their lavish communities. She’d describe to me tales of their humility and kindness, but also about their dangers. 

“They are as beautiful as they are dangerous, Geralt,” she’d say, eyes shining with a bright nostalgia, “You mustn’t get too close. You never know when they will fly away.”

He wouldn’t, Jaskier wouldn’t fly away. I won’t let him. 

****

I arrived at the apartment, chest heaving as I climbed the stairs. My legs shook, fear racking through me, but behind that fear was sharp anger. Why hadn’t he told me? Was I just a human game to him? Was this just another one of his “adventures”? Did he even love me?

The questions burned in my mind, bubbling up my throat as I pushed my way through the door, throwing it open. Roach let out a startled meow and Jaskier turned. He leaned against the counter in relief, butter knife in his hand easing, “Good God! Geralt, you can’t simply barge into - “

I cut him off, my face twitching with rage, “Are you a part of the Butterfly Society?” 

He froze, eyes widening and quickly darting away, “W-What?”

I stepped towards him, quick, rushed steps, “Are you a part of the Butterfly Society?”

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out, his eyes filled with terror and that sadness that was shadowed by his kindness and wonder, came forth.

“W-Who told you?” He whispered, voice cracking. 

“Does it matter?!” I growled, voice seeping with venom and betrayal, “Why would you not think to tell me?” 

He stuttered over his words, excuses and pleas falling from his lips, “I-I was going to...but-but it’s just not something you tell someone-”

I reached forward, hands gripping at his shoulder, fingers biting into his skin, “Well, I’m not someone, Jaskier, I’m -” my voice shook, “I’m supposed to be someone you trusted.”

His eyes filled with tears, storm grey pulling over the blue, “You are. Please you must know that.” His eyes darted around, “I do trust you,” he cut himself off, eyes dropping to the floor, “I - I love you, Geralt.” His voice was soft, low enough to where I almost missed it. 

He looked back at me, “I love you.”

I shoved him away, a scowl on my face, “You’ve lied to me,” I seethed, turning away and letting my hand come up to pinch my nose bridge, “You lied to me, how can I believe you. How can I know that I’m not just some game to you?”

He made a hurt sound, and stepped in front of me, “H-How you say that? You’ve never been a - a game, Geralt.”

He tried to touch my face, but I pulled away, anger igniting in my veins, “How do you know? You’ve lied to me!” He flinched away, hands dropping by his sides.

“That’s not fair,” he whispered. 

I let out a dry scoff, “Not fair? You want to talk about ‘not fair’?! I’ve fallen for a stranger, someone who’s lied to me. I let you into my home, into my life and you’ve lied to me.”

“Do you know what it’s like?!” He yelled, turning sharply to me, tears falling freely from his eyes, “Do you know what it’s like to have no control over your body?! To be born into a society where you never get what you want because you don’t know when you’ll leave?!”

I stared at him, guilt building in my gut because no, I didn’t know what that was like. I crossed my arms, face hardening. 

“You don’t know,” he sobbed, arms coming up to hold himself, he bit down on his lower lip, sobs muffled, “You don’t know how scary it is, to hope...to pray that you’re still there. To not know when you’ll fly away. It’s frightening…”

My hands twitched at my sides, I wanted to pull him closer, to let him know that it was ok, that I was sorry, that I was just scared. That I - That I loved him too. 

Instead, I said this, “Why not tell me?”

“I was scared,” he sobbed, hands coming up to press against his face, “I was scared that you would run away, that you’d leave as soon as you found out.”  
A strained sigh flew out of my lips, “Jaskier, this isn’t small news.”

“I know,” he groaned, he walked to me, just out of arm's reach. 

“I-I just…” he struggled to find the words, hands flying to his hair, “When you kissed me that night, I knew I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t tell you because I was afraid, you’d stop kissing me like that. Like you knew I was going to stay like there was no other choice but for me to stay.”

He looked at me, sadness and guilt pooling in his eyes, “All my life I’ve searched for that, and I found it in you, Geralt. I couldn’t lose that. I couldn’t lose you,” He admitted, his voice was raw, tears still falling down his cheeks. 

The anger in me quieted, and I reached for him, grabbing hold of his elbows and pulling him close. I let myself melt into the warmth, I let myself melt into the kiss I pulled him into. I could taste his tears, the salt meeting my lips as I kissed them away. He looked up at me as if I held the world as if he couldn’t stand the thought of losing me. 

I pressed him into the couch, trailing kisses down his body, letting my touch pull him apart. I swallowed all his noises, relishing in the way his skin heated beneath my hands. 

“Geralt,” he panted, face flushing. 

I leaned up, slipping my hands lower, “Jaskier.”

“I love you,” he moaned, back bowing off the bed, head thrown back in ecstasy. 

I pressed my forehead to his, my eyes finding his, fire igniting in my stomach as I saw them glazed over and lust-filled, “I do too.”

*****

When we finally did have a proper talk Jaskier couldn’t face me, his eyes darting around, trying to avoid my gaze. He dodged big questions and gave me vague answers. 

“Jaskier,” I sighed, “If you’re not going to tell me the truth then,” I trailed off, “then you need to leave.”

His head shot up and he rushed towards me, head shaking, “No-NO! I’ll answer your questions, I will.”

I sighed and allowed him to burrow into my chest, hair slightly brushing against my chin, “Have you ever...flown before?”

He was quiet, fingers playing with the thread of his sweater, “No.”

“Do you fly?”

He let out a soft chuckle, “No, we don’t have wings or anything like that,” his voice went quiet, “When we do...fly away, our body kind of dissolves…?”

I let out a confused hum and he quickly added, “It’s like we dissolve into butterflies, does that make sense?”

I nodded, shuddering at the visual, “Does it hurt?”

“I don’t know, I hope not.”

“Have you ever seen it happen?” He went still, tensing in my arms. 

“Yes,” his voice was soft and strained, “My mother and older siblings flew.”

I pressed a kiss to his forehead and sighed, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s ok,” he trailed off, “I just haven’t talked about it.”

I leaned back against the couch, propping my legs up and let my hand drop to his back, rubbing mindless circles, “Will you tell me about it.”

He answered with a soft nod, adjusting himself atop of me, “Well, my mother flew when we were young, I was only 7. And well, my older sister and brother raised me, they did their best.”

I closed my eyes, memories of my own mother resurfacing, “How old were they?”

“They were twins, both of them were 13.” 

I gawked at him, “How did they support you?”

He went silent, his cheeks heating, “The Butterfly Society did. They have a program. When an adult leaves behind a child due to flying, the Society will take them in and take care of them.”

I hummed, memories of my mother leaving me on Vesemir’s doorstep flooding through.

I quickly changed the subject, “Do you know when you are meant to fly?”

He shifted against my chest, face pressing further into me, “You get a feeling, like, in that moment right before it happens, you get this feeling of being complete” His voice wavered, “B-But I haven’t had any feeling,” he promised. 

My hand trailed down his back, soothing his tense muscles, “It’s ok,” I reassured, “It’s ok.”

He looked up at me, eyes filled to the brim with emotions. The blue overshadowed by the sadness and fear, the kindness and curiosity fading away into the deep hues of his pupil. The sun was setting, and the cold brush of winter was barding through. 

“Kiss me,” he pleads, voice cracking, his eyes are straining, trying to reign the sun back, to feel the shadow of the summer. 

I dropped my hands to his neck, gently cradling his head, finger threading through the soft hair. He met me halfway, lips driven by desperation and uncertainty. The kiss was chaste and sweet, it was a kiss full of promise and swears. 

He swore to me that he’d stay, I promised to always kiss him like I was sure he would. 

****

“Geralt!” He groaned, leaning over to push the cloth over my eyes, “You have to keep it over your eyes! If not, you’ll spoil the surprise!”

I let out a snort, “Well if you’d just tell me where the hell we were I wouldn’t have to peak, now would I?”

He laughed, bright and sunny, “Well it wouldn’t be a surprise if I did, now would it?”

I rolled my eyes, crossing my legs and propping my feet against the dashboard, “I’ll kick your ass,” I muttered.

“Love you too, Geralt,” he chirped.

We arrived about thirty minutes later, Jaskier hopping out, and rushing to open the door on my side. 

“C’mon,” he coaxed, “Out we go,” he tugged at my arms, pulling me from the car. I growled when he led my head into the arch of the doorway. 

“Oh!” He laughed, “Sorry about that, love.”

The sunshine hit my face, the fresh breeze of the country wafting through the air, a floral scent swirled around me. I reached for the cloth around my eyes but Jaskier’s hand stopped me, “Not yet,” he whispered, “We have to get to a certain spot.”

I let him guide me through, what I assumed was, a field. The various plants and grasses clinging to my jeans as I shuffled through. He held onto my hand; fingers intertwined with mine. 

I was met with a cool breeze, the slight burn of the sun easing away. 

Hands pressed against my face, “Are you ready, love?”

I grunted, wanting to get this off my face as soon as possible. Jaskier laughed but undid the knot. 

I squinted as my eyes readjusted to the bright light of day. We were in a field, the field was full of flowers, the sunlight dancing off the colorful petals and waxy leaves. I scowled; I should have brought my sketchbook. 

Jaskier came into view, a nervous smile pulling at his lips, “Do you like it?”

I stared at him, “Yes, I do like it,” I pressed a soft kiss to his temple before drawing him close, looping my arm around him, “But why bring me here?”

Jaskier went still, “This is where my brother and sister brought me right before they flew,” I pulled away sharply, hurt filling my being. 

He quickly added, “NO! No! I’m not saying I’ve gotten a feeling, but I wanted to bring you here, I’ve never brought anyone here.” He blushed. 

I smiled at him, a relieved sigh spilling past my lips, “Thank you for bringing me here,” I whispered against his lips, placing a soft kiss there. 

We melted against each other, falling into the embrace of the wildflowers around us. The dandelions and buttercups framed his face, yellow petals slipping into his chocolate brown hair, I laughed. Dandelion, how ironic.

He stared at me, summer eyes filling with a warm sunset, a seashore with soothing waves, a kiss in the shadow of the summer. 

“I love you, Jaskier,” I whispered, the Buttercups and Dandelions around me preened towards us, lapping at the confession. 

His eyes widened, “I love you, Geralt.”

He smiled softly at me, and I ignited in the summer sun, my heart overflowing with his warmth. I was sure, sure that I’d die. That I’d die here in this flower field with him in my arms, but, if I’m honest, that didn’t sound too bad. 

*****

Yen laughed loudly, pressing her body to Jaskier, they leaned against each other as they teased me. I looked away with an embarrassed grunt, cheeks heating slightly. 

“Aw,” Yen sighed, “We’ve hurt his feelings.”

I scowled at her, pulling Jaskier back into my arms, he beamed at me, “It’s ok, Geralt, I’ll win you that bear.”

He moved from me, going up to the booth and sitting down, he smirked back at me. The bell dinged and he began to press the trigger, the balloon began to fill with water, his brows furrowed in concentration. 

“Go Jaskier,” Triss cheered, seated to the seat beside him. 

I eyed Yen who gave me a knowing glance, “It’s a shame, I always thought you were the top.”

I swatted at her, and she shrieked, racing to Triss, laughs spilling from her lips. 

The bell dinged and Jaskier shot up, fist-pumping in the air, turning to me with a triumphant smirk. 

He sauntered over, prize in hand and pressed it to my chest, “Here you go, love, I won it just for you.”

I rolled my eyes but accepted the stuffed animal, it was an oversized bear. I wrapped my hand around him, drawing him back to my side. 

We walked through the fair, letting the scenery ignite around us. Dazzling lights and joyous screams, the smell of cotton candy and popcorn filled the air. People raced around us, mothers chasing after their overjoyed children, young lovers sharing their first date, friends pressuring one another to face their fears. 

I looked over to find Triss, Yen, and Jaskier throwing their heads back in laughter. The lights illuminated his face, his summer eyes youthful and unafraid, curious and kind. He stared back at me when his laughter died down, warmth and love spreading through us.

Beside him, Yen groaned, “Get a room!” She was steered away by Triss, walking in the direction of a Ferris wheel. 

I glanced down at Jaskier, and his eyes lit up, “C’mon,” I whispered. Pulling him toward the ride, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. 

We stood in line; he practically began to vibrate beside me when we approached the front. I made quick work of handing the worker out tickets and stepping into the small seat, I sat down, flinching at the way it swung slightly. 

I helped him sit and lowered the bar across our lap. He laced our fingers, leaning on my shoulder. I smiled at him, a genuine smile. 

The ride began, lifting us slowly, we rose steadily. Jaskier jerking the seat a few times just for fun, I hissed at him and he stopped, a smug smile on his lips. Soon enough we reached the top, Jaskier let out an audible gasp, eyes scanning the fair. He lifted from my shoulder and leaned slightly. 

I chuckled at his pure expression, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. He turned to me, eyes swimming with the Fair lights, brilliant blues and yellows flashing across his summer eyes. 

“It’s so beautiful,” He whispered, voice full of awe. 

“Not as beautiful as you,” I countered, leaning closer to him. 

He turned to me, blush high on his cheeks, eyes darting to my lips. 

“Kiss me,” I breathed. 

He leaned in and kissed me; the lights paled in comparison to this moment. Everyone stood still, at this moment there was no one else, no shouting or cheers, but there was him and I. We were wrapped up in each other. I could feel his heartbeat and I was so sure he could hear mine, it thundered in my chest. 

He pulled away, eyes glistening with tears, “I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you.”

We stayed until they kicked us out, my head spinning with the high of excitement. The midnight thrill ran through me. We rented a hotel, it wasn’t great, but it was a place to sleep. Triss and Yen shuffled off to their own room, doing god knows what. 

Jaskier pulled me into a kiss as soon as we stepped into our room, hands tangling in my hair, giving it a small tug. I moaned into his mouth, sliding my hands down his hips, pulling him closer. 

He gently pushed me onto the bed, straddling my hips. He pulled me to him, thighs bracketing my hips, and whispered against my lips, “Make love to me, Geralt.”

I stared into his summer eyes, they held love and warmth, but also, in the midst of the summer kisses and the Ferris Wheel, there was sadness. Sadness that I wanted to get to the bottom of, but I pushed it away. I had plenty of time. 

I did as he said, pulling him closer, always closer, and biting sweetly into his skin. Exploring his body with care and patience. I slipped into him with a content sigh, thrusts slow and languid. I lost myself within him, pressing ‘I love you’s into his skin, letting my hands roam his body, memorizing every inch of skin. Every inch of Jaskier. 

He leaned up, face flushed and eyes dazed, “Geralt, I love you, I love you.”

I nodded against his shoulder, “Jaskier, I love you.” His body coiled around me and I spilled into him, pulling him into a tender kiss as he tumbled over the edge. 

He floated down from our highs, bodies shaking and sated. 

We laid in each other’s arms, basking in the silence and afterglow. 

“Geralt,” Jaskier called, voice soft and dazed.

I hummed, he turned to me, summer eyes filled with that same sadness, that same ancient knowledge. 

“If I fly,” We’d changed it to if, it hurt less for us that way, “You have to promise me that you won’t wait for me. You have to promise me that you’ll live your life,” I made a move to cut him off, but he pressed a firm hand to my mouth, “I’m serious. As much as we try to avoid it, I need you to promise me that, Geralt.”

I pushed his hand off, “How can I, Jaskier? How am I supposed to find someone else who loves Roach the way you do? How am I meant to find someone who hates the radio but loves music? Or someone who is nicknamed after a yellow flower but doesn’t like the color? How am I meant to find someone as flamboyant and annoying?”

He stared at me once more, eyes filling with tears, “You won’t. You’ll never find another me, you’ll never find another love like this,” he gestured between us, “Because you’ll find a new love. You’ll find a new pattern with someone else; you’ll take care of someone else.”

I shook my head sharply, hands coming up to cup his face, “I don’t want someone else; I can’t have someone else.”

He sighed and leaned against me, pressing a kiss to my forehead, “I suppose.”

****

I awoke the next morning to find the bed empty, panic raced through me, dread filled my very core. As his name formed on my lips, I spotted him, coming from the shower, towel wrapped around his waist. 

“Good morning,” He chirped, smile bright and chipper. 

“Why are you up so early?”

He turned to me with a smile, “I want to go see the sunrise on the beach.”

I groaned and turned away, “We can see it another day, come back to bed.”

Jaskier simply laughed and pulled the sheets away, “Come on, I’ve already woken up Yen and Triss.”

I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, with a groan I began to get dressed. 

****

The beach wasn’t a far walk from the hotel, darkness fell over us, the sun barely peeking through the horizon. Triss and Yen slugged behind Jaskier, he tugged at my hand, leading me to the shoreline. 

He laughed, arms extending to the morning breeze, eyes lighting up with fearlessness and youth. I chuckled as Yen and Triss fell to the sand, leaning on one another. I followed suit, falling to the sand beneath me. 

The sun was dragging in the sky, reds, purples, and oranges dancing with the clouds. The water was calm, the soft drag of waves meeting the shoreline. A call of seagulls singing softly through the air. Cool air brushed against my skin; the taste of salt sat on my tongue. I breathed in deeply, the deep musk of the sea, settling in my lungs. Grains of sand sifted gently between my fingers. 

My body melted into the sand, letting the grain sink into my clothing

Jaskier danced in the water, feet kicking up grains of sand and muck. He smiled at me, face lighting up and sadness fading from his eyes. His summer eyes. 

I pulled myself up, walking through the sand and relishing in the grains between my toes. 

He pressed himself against me, “Isn’t it beautiful, Geralt.”

I wrapped my arms around him and smiled, “Yeah, it is.”

He turned to me, untucking himself from my grasp, a shiver running through him, “Thank you all for coming with me,” he announced. 

I snorted in confusion, “Of course, why wouldn’t we.”

He just smiled at me and turned away. 

“Now can we please go back to that hotel, I will die if I don’t get some bloody food in me,” Yen groaned, voice distant and whinny. Triss nodded beside her. 

I chuckled, but agreed, “C’mon, Jas, let’s go get some breakfast, then we can come back.”

He shook his head, “I’m afraid,” his voice wobbled, and he turned to me, eyes shining with tears, “I’m afraid I won’t be going back.”

My stomach dropped, “What do you mean?”

I was met with silence, “Jaskier, what do you mean?!”

Triss and Yen rose to their feet, staggering behind me. 

“It’s my time to go,” he whispered, turning to look at the sea then back at me, “I just - I just wanted to see this all one last time.”

Both women gasped behind me, I lunged forward, gripping his shoulders, “Why didn’t you tell me?” My heart was shattering. 

Suddenly, it all made sense. He’s known all along. 

“I wanted to come here with you and not feel like it was my last time here,” He whimpered, eyes streaming tears. 

The sun rose higher in the sky, and suddenly I could see the outline of his back glow, it was a warm blue color. 

He dropped to his knees, I followed, my hands reaching for his face, “Jaskier,” I begged, tears clogging my voice, “Please don’t leave.”

He simply smiled at me, summer eyes illuminating with joy and youth, “I can’t.” 

I reached for him, pressing kisses into his cheeks, “Jaskier, I can’t do this...please don’t leave,” I cried 

He reached for my cheeks, “You’ve already given me more life that I need,” he whispered, “You made me ready to go, you’ve made it so that my last two years here were the best years of my life, Geralt.”

I shook my head, clutching at his shirt, tears blurring my vision, “NO!NO! Please don’t go, Jaskier,” I sucked in a breath, “Please, I need you.”

I watched in horror as he began to slowly fade away, his back lit up, blue illuminating his figure and morphing into butterflies. Each one taking flight, small graceful wings pulling him further away from me. 

I pulled him into a kiss, begging for him to stay, trying to give him anything and everything. 

“Jaskier, I love you; I love you, p-please...please don’t go!”

He smiled at me, “My love,” He whispered, “You will live your life, you will love someone else, you have given me enough love for a lifetime,” His voice shook, “I love you more than anything.”

His arms began to fade, blue filling my vision, “Jaskier! Don’t go! Please for the love of God, don’t go!”

Blue illuminated his face, his eyes shining with tears and love, “My love, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be there, always with you, Geralt.”

His touch began to fade, and soon enough his body was fading, leaving behind only his smile and his eyes, his summer eyes. 

“JASKIER!” I sobbed, reaching out for him, my heart was shattering, my world was breaking. 

“DON’T LEAVE ME!” But he was already gone, only leaving a single blue butterfly in his place. It stared at me before turning away and flying away, taking the love of my life with it.

My chest burned, my ears were filled with static, all I could see was his smile, all I could feel was the emptiness around me. 

“Geralt,” Yennefer whispered as she pulled me into her lap, I fell backward, hands clutching at her arms as I sobbed. 

“Jaskier,” I cried, tears choking me off, “Please come back…”

Yennefer and Triss held me as I sobbed, screaming at the sunrise to give him back, for someone to give him back. 

I screamed until my throat made no more sound, screaming until the loud crashing of the waves was drowned out by my screams. Screaming at the sunset for taking him away, at the world for taking him away. My sobs burned my throat, tears blurring my vision. 

Yennefer and Triss wrapped their arms around me, whispering soothing things into my ear. Begging for me to let him go, to let him move on. But I couldn’t, how can I let go of someone who I needed to live, I needed him. I was going to die without him. 

They held me until my sobs died into small gulps of air, body slumping against the sand. 

“G-Geralt,” Triss whispered, “C’mon we’ve got to go home.”

I turned away from her, I couldn’t go home, it was too empty, to Jaskierless. 

Yennefer held my head in her hands, thumbs stroking my cheeks, “Geralt, he wouldn’t want us to sit here and cry forever. C’mon. Let’s go.”

I stared at her, I knew she was right. So, I allowed both women to hoist me up, carefully supporting me until we got back to the hotel. They made quick work of getting our things together and quickly guiding me to the car. 

They drove me home, I was quiet, silent tears trailing down my face. 

Yennefer left me alone, dropping me off at my apartment. I shoved away Roach and stumbled into the bedroom. 

I looked around, my eyes landing on a note, it sat next to his guitar. 

I elbowed it away, shattering everything around me, sobs building back in my throat, tears burned their way down my cheeks. 

I stood in my own storm, the dull ache of pain sat in my knuckles, outshined by the ache in my heart. I was shattered, my heart felt as if it didn’t beat anymore. I threw myself onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling in anger, in quiet, broken, anger. 

I could still feel his touch on my skin, I could still feel his kiss on my lips. I could still feel Jaskier.

I could feel the stare of his summer eyes, the way they felt as if they held a million stories, they held years of knowledge, they held the sunrise over the beach, they held an afternoon in a flower field, they held a kiss in the shadow of summer. 

They held long nights with midnight talks, they held lazy Sundays with Roach, they held chords on the guitar, they held kindness and curiosity, love and warmth. 

They held the story of Jaskier and I. 

I would do anything to see them again, to see him again. 

The emotion began to build inside me, I reached over blindly, fingers tracing the wood of my nightstand to find my sketchbook. It was filled with Jaskier, charcoal, oil, pastel, and watercolor. It was practically exploding with his summer eyes and starlight smile. 

I held each work to my chest, letting them sink into my skin before moving on to the next one. Doing my best to imprint him on my skin. 

Tears fell from my eyes as I reached the first sketch of him. 

It was left incomplete, half of his body needed shadows, but not his eyes, no, they were done. Their wonder and curiosity stared into my soul. I began to cry again, clutching the artwork to my chest, as I whispered into the paper, “I promise, Jaskier, I promise.”

His summer eyes stared at me as if telling me, “I know, I know.”

He knew, Jaskier knew. He’d always known. 

I let myself sink into the bed, falling back into memories of his smile, of his touch, his voice, his eyes. I let myself fall back into the memory of seeing him for the first time. I float into the feeling of his kiss and the press of his lips, coating my memories with warmth, warmth from his kisses. The warmth from his memories.

The warmth from the days spent shielded away from the world, days where we lay in the shadow of the summer and dared for anything or anyone to try and pull us away. 

When he kissed me, lips full of promise, not promising he would stay, but promising he would always try to. A weak smile pulled at my lips as Roach walked into the room, stepping around the thrown furniture and objects, she meowed up at me. 

I made a gesture for her to join me, she hopped to my chest and curled up, small paw reaching out and pressing against my chest, ‘He’s here, you know?’

I chuckled, “Yes, Roach, I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it :)
> 
> Allow me to clear up a few things:
> 
> 1) Jaskier’s siblings flew when he was 17
> 
> 2) When you “fly” you don’t die, you get reincarnated in a new body, but your eyes don’t change. The Society is known for having rare and beautiful eyes, many people try to locate people they’ve lost using this. Which is why Jaskier tells Geralt to not wait for him.
> 
> 3) this sorry takes place over the course of two years. The flower field scene happens at the end of their first year together and the beach scene happens during their last summer together. 
> 
> 4) Geralt is an art major and Jaskier is a music major.
> 
> 5) Triss and Yen are together
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Also, let me know if you’d like to see a sequel to this, I may have one in mind. Thank you, and don’t forget to leave me a comment about your thoughts or corrections or even something you’d like to see in the future.


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